


A Classy Guy

by glorious_spoon



Series: Teen Wolf Kink Bingo 2018 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Derek is kind of into it, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Semi-Public Sex, Stiles has an exhibitionist streak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 07:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/pseuds/glorious_spoon
Summary: “I am absolutely complaining,” Stiles says, and works his hands between them so he can start undoing the complicated buckle on Derek’s belt. “This is a rest stop bathroom. I’m not demanding four-star hotels and champagne and being hand-fed chocolate-dipped strawberries in bed— you know what, no, I totally am demanding that. You can afford it. I’m a classy guy, I deserve nice things.”





	A Classy Guy

“So when you said, ‘Come with me right now, Stiles, we have important business to discuss’,” Stiles says as Derek shoves him against the wall and steps into his space, slotting himself between his thighs, his hands sliding up under Stiles’s t-shirt, “what you actually meant was ‘Come with me right now, Stiles, so I can nail you against the wall instead of listening to the rest of the pack argue about directions’. Right?”

“Shut up,” Derek says, mouthing at the curve of his neck. “Are you complaining?”

“I am absolutely complaining,” Stiles says, and works his hands between them so he can start undoing the complicated buckle on Derek’s belt. “This is a rest stop bathroom. I’m not demanding four-star hotels and champagne and being hand-fed chocolate-dipped strawberries in bed— you know what, no, I totally am demanding that. You can afford it. I’m a classy guy, I deserve nice things.”

“Okay,” Derek says agreeably. He pulls back enough to grin at Stiles, then kisses him quickly on the mouth while his fingers make quick work of his belt and fly. “Later. For now, you’re going to have to settle for a blowjob.”

Stiles lets his head thunk back against the tile wall as Derek slides down to his knees. “I uh. I accept your counter-offer.”

“Good,” Derek says, and he’s laughing at Stiles, he’s absolutely laughing at him, but he’s also shoving his jeans and boxers down and wrapping warm fingers around his cock, so Stiles really can’t bring himself to be that offended.

“But don’t think— oh, fuck, _God_ , do that again— don’t think you’re getting out of this just because—” His voice breaks off entirely as Derek swallows his cock down to the base. His strong hands grip Stiles’s thighs, keeping him in place so that he can’t move, can’t thrust into the slick heat of Derek’s mouth, so that all he can do is stand there, weak-kneed, and take whatever it is Derek wants to do to him.

And what Derek wants to do, apparently, is fucking _wreck_ him in record time. They haven’t been doing this for all that long, but it’s been long enough for Stiles to have some clue about how Derek is in bed. Normally, he’s teasing and exploratory, taking his sweet time to drive Stiles out of his mind. This is something completely different, fast and brutal and so fucking hot that Stiles has to bite down on his own fist to stifle the noises that want to come pouring out of his mouth.

Not that it matters. The others are going to be able to hear them anyway. They’re going to know exactly what they were doing in here, and that thought sends a bolt of unexpected heat through him. He drops his hand to Derek’s head, tangling his fingers in his soft hair and tugging slightly. “I’m, _fuck,_ I’m gonna—”

Derek doesn’t pull back. Instead, his fingers dig into Stiles’s thighs and he fucking _growls_ around him, and that’s it, he’s gone, he’s coming so hard that his vision goes white around the edges.

“Oh, my God,” he mumbles, sagging against the wall as Derek stands. Grabs at him with shaky hands, yanking him in for a messy kiss. He can taste himself on Derek’s tongue, can feel Derek’s low moan vibrate against his lips when Stiles unbuttons his jeans one-handed and shoves his hand inside. “Oh, my God, Derek, that was so hot, you have no idea.”

Derek laughs breathlessly, dropping his head to Stiles’s shoulder, and Stiles feels a surge of tenderness that has absolutely no business making an appearance in the middle of a rest-stop quickie.

“So hot,” he murmurs again, pressing a kiss to the side of Derek’s head and wrapping his fingers around his cock. Derek makes a low, swallowed noise against his neck, his body rocking against Stiles as he thrusts into his grip. “You’re close, aren’t you? Just from this? You know, everybody’s gonna know what we were doing in here. Even if they can’t hear it, they’ll be able to smell you on me—”

“Stiles,” Derek growls against his skin, fingers flexing where they’re gripping his hips. Stiles kisses him again, speeds up his strokes, and he’s pretty sure he feels the sudden scrape of claws as Derek swears raggedly and comes in hot pulses all over his hand.

He sags against Stiles when it’s over, pressing close like he’d like to climb inside of his skin. The tile wall is uncomfortably cold against Stiles’s bare ass, and he has nothing other than his t-shirt or Derek’s to clean up with, and he can still feel himself grinning helplessly as he rubs his free hand up and down Derek’s back, feeling the shuddering aftershocks rolling up his spine.

“Stop it,” Derek grumbles after a moment, without lifting his head. He’s clearly trying to sound grouchy, but it comes out kind of drowsy and fucked out instead.

Stiles presses a smiling kiss into his hair. “Stop what?”

“Gloating.”

“I’m not gloating.”

“Yes, you are. Silently.”

“I don’t do anything silently,” Stiles tells him. “And anyway, this was all your idea, don’t blame me.”

Derek finally lifts his head. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink, his hair is wrecked from where Stiles was grabbing at it, and he’s quite possibly the most beautiful sight Stiles has ever seen. Even under the flickering yellow fluorescent lights of the rest stop bathroom. “Are you still complaining?”

“Hm,” Stiles says thoughtfully. Derek gives him an exasperated look, and he grins, pulls him into another kiss. “No,” he says, when they finally break apart. “I’m not complaining. But you still owe me that four-star hotel and champagne.”

Derek lets out a bark of startled laughter. “Deal,” he says, and leans in to kiss Stiles again.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Classy Guy (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17164274) by [AiJamaisFacil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiJamaisFacil/pseuds/AiJamaisFacil)




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